Call it a draw
by Sothis Star1
Summary: You should never tell Jake what he can't do, however casual the challenge. Neytiri just might learn this the hard way. Fun, fluffy one-shot set after the events of the movie, featuring a lot of friendly one-upmanship. Rated T for language.


Jake Sully is on a mission.

Neytiri issued him a challenge, and only now — more than a year later — does he finally have the leisure to follow up on it. But today, he's going to do it. Today's he's going to sneak up on Neytiri, something she once claimed he would never be able to do.

She probably doesn't even remember saying it; she had uttered it without thought at the end of one particularly twig-snapping jungle expedition, early in his training. But Jake remembers it as clearly as he remembers all such proclamations. It might as well have been issued as a bold call for champions, complete with trumpets and town criers and promises of wealth and glory. He's Jake Sully. He can pass any test a man can pass.

Even if it takes him all afternoon.

Jake has been quietly stalking Neytiri for over an hour, using every technique she ever taught him. He keeps carefully down-wind of her, and his movements are minutely choreographed to blend seamlessly into the scenery. He plots each step with his eyes before setting his foot down, toes first, testing the ground for silence before committing his weight. Not a single twig snaps at his passing.

A light breeze blows in, and Jake inches forward, his movement masked by the rustling of nearby plants. The breeze stops, and he freezes, barely breathing. The entire process is painfully slow, but he knows better than to blow this golden opportunity with impatience.

In the war's aftermath, there had been no leisure time whatsoever. The first few weeks after the humans left were entirely consumed with tending the wounded and burying the dead. After that had come the laborious process of finding a new Hometree. Clan scouts had traveled for hundreds of clicks in every direction in search of an appropriate specimen: one that was the right age and the right shape, one that did not already house other clans or colonies of creatures. Finally, when they found one, the entire clan had traveled through the treacherous jungle to reach it, before moving in and converting the tree into a true home, fit for permanent habitation. The new tree was rather smaller than the one the humans had destroyed. If they hadn't lost so many lives recently, they would've been quite cramped. But it was home. Somewhere in the midst of all that, Jake had also been permanently reborn in his avatar body and become a father to boot. It's hard to believe his own luck sometimes, with so many things happening at once.

Today, though, Jake finally has a free afternoon, and he's going to make good use of it. Earlier in the day, he and Neytiri had parted ways — she to go bow-fishing, he to hunt hexapedes — with the kid safe at home with Mo'at. He had barely arrived at the hunting grounds, pausing to string his bow, when a large buck practically walked into him. A task that normally would've taken all day had been neatly wrapped up in less than an hour. Add that stroke of luck to the fact that Neytiri was bow-fishing today — an endeavor that would keep her in the same spot near the falls for hours — and it practically felt like destiny.

Hidden among the foliage, Jake watches as his mate stands knee-deep in the water, motionless except for her quick golden eyes. Her bow is held in a relaxed position by her side, but she has a fishing arrow nocked and ready at her bowstring. A large fish suddenly leaps up over the falls, and in one fluid movement, Neytiri pivots, draws her bow, and pegs it. She pulls it in by the thin cord attached to her arrow, murmuring a prayer, and adds it to the growing pile in the basket on the shore.

Jake never gets tired of watching Neytiri shoot. It seems as though she never misses. He has become an acceptable archer himself, by now, but he has yet to master the art of shooting on the fly like that: drawing a bow with perfect form, on split-second notice, while tracking a swiftly moving target. There's a reason Neytiri is the one bow-fishing and not Jake. He eyes the basket of fish appreciatively. Between her catch and Jake's hexapede, they will have plenty of meat to contribute to the clan's dinner that night.

He eases silently closer until he's reached the edge of the forest bordering the river. He crouches there and waits for his moment.

* * *

At long last, Neytiri walks back to shore, dripping in the sunlight. She unstrings her bow and straps it to the side of the basket, nestling alongside the equipment pouch that hangs there.

She carries the basket of fish with her into the forest, and as luck would have it, she's walking in Jake's direction. Then she sets the basket down in order to pick a few fan-shaped leaves and lay them on top of the fish, to keep the jungle insects away. Perfect. She turns her back on his position for a moment, bending to retrieve something from the equipment pouch. Jake pounces.

Just before impact, she side-steps him. He rolls twice in order to use up the momentum.

His heart sinks, as he realizes that all of his careful effort had been in vain. She had detected him after all, and she was prepared for his attack. He knows this partly because of the wry glint in her eye as she turns toward him but mostly because of the set of bolas wrapped around his knees.

Despite the handicap, he lunges at her, knocking her over, trying to pin her under his torso. But she's expecting him and the lunge instead sends them both rolling down a small mossy hill, tumbling end over end. He ends up face-down on the forest floor, legs still tangled in the bolas, with Neytiri kneeling on his back.

"Crap."

He can hear her laughter somewhere above him. "You are becoming better, Jake. I almost did not hear you." She shifts her position on his back and laughs again. "But I have the victory today."

"Not yet." His arms are still free, and he moves to push himself off the ground. A shooting pain explodes through his body as her knee bears down, pain which disappears immediately when he stops moving. Christ, that hurt. How the hell is she doing that? It occurs to him that his Marine training on pressure points doesn't necessarily apply to alien physiology.

"_Fuck._ Okay, okay, fine. Uncle."

"...uncle?" She's confused.

"Never mind."

Jake stops struggling and lies still, panting. It annoys him to give up so quickly, but he really had been counting on having the element of surprise on his side. At the very least, he hadn't expected _her_ to get the drop on _him_. Fucking bolas. So unfair.

He shakes his fist in mock rage. "One of these days..." he growls theatrically. His voice is muffled by the moss, hampering his intended effect.

Neytiri can sense that he is genuinely put out by his failed attack and is trying to be a good sport about it. After everything he's done, his need to prove himself amuses her. She catches his fist and pulls his unresisting arm behind his back, twisting it into a grappling hold.

"Ow."

"What do you need to prove, _Toruk Makto_?"

Still lying on his stomach, Jake turns his head to look at her — a move that would've been awkward in a human body but is easy with his avatar's long, flexible neck. He frowns. "Don't call me that."

"Everybody calls you that."

"Except you," he corrects. "So don't start now. It's weird."

"What do you prefer?"

"I prefer that you stop doing that to my arm. I can't feel my fingers anymore." His voice sounds tense with suppressed pain.

Neytiri releases him, chagrined. She hadn't realized she was holding him so tightly. She climbs off his back, removing the bolas as she does so, and he sits up — more slowly than usual. His arm is oddly stiff as he brings it back around in front of him, and Neytiri leans forward in concern, reaching for it.

_WHUMP!_

The arm flies up, perfectly functional, and catches her across the collarbones. In a scurry of movement, he flips her onto her back, swinging her legs under a nearby log so she can't knee him. He sits on her ribcage, artlessly using his greater weight to his advantage. He's laughing with shameless glee. The bastard had been exaggerating about his arm, and she had fallen for it.

Neytiri's pride stings with the unfairness of the ploy; she manages to punch him hard in the stomach before he catches her hands and pins them over her head. The blow knocks the wind out of him, but the inability to breathe can't stop his laughter. His doubled-up body shakes with silent mirth.

"_Skxawng!_" she hisses up at him.

Jake finally recovers the use of his lungs. "See, that's better," he wheezes, still laughing. "_Skxawng_." He repeats the old insult to himself, drawing it out, as though it's his favorite word in the world.

He gets up and pulls her to her feet. They're both going to have bruises tomorrow. He grins at her. "I'll be nice to you this time and let you call it a draw, ok?"

The absurd remark earns him a renewed flurry of verbal and physical abuse.

"Hey, hey... stop that. I was kidding. You won. Fair and square." He tries to shut her up with a kiss, unchivalrously forcing his lips onto hers. She bites him. His head jerks back, and the wild look of surprise and alarm in his eyes is so funny that Neytiri bursts into laughter despite herself. Jake isn't sure how to react. His arms are still wrapped around her, but his head is leaning away. He surveys her from this distance, trying to judge whether it's safe to approach again. Neytiri takes pity on him and takes his face in both of her hands, moving slowly so as not to spook him with sudden movements. She leans in and kisses him very gently on the lips. He relaxes. All is forgiven.

Neytiri retrieves her basket, holding it with one arm against her hip. The two of them head for home in companionable silence, still chuckling. Jake keeps shooting sideways glances at Neytiri, shaking his head, until she finally asks him what he's thinking. He rolls his eyes, smirking. "I can't believe I manage to get under your skin with the stupid things I say. Geez. And you say _I_ have issues about needing to prove myself." He takes her hand as they walk. "You taught me everything I know. You know that. I don't get how you can ever take me seriously."

She's touched by his sincerity. "Not everything."

Jake holds his ground. "_Everything._" He sets his jaw, stubbornly, waiting for her to argue with him.

Neytiri shakes her head but lets it drop. She's going to let him call this one a draw.

* * *

**Author's note: So that was fun... hopefully I made some of you smile. :-) If you want to take that happy feeling and have it mercilessly ripped to shreds, go check out my other fic, "Five seconds too late." It's a longer story, and it follows an alternate ending to what we see in the movie. The tone is a lot different from what you've just read, but it eventually has a happy ending (...sort of).**

**As always, reviews are very much appreciated (including tough critiques). It's hard to write laugh-out-loud humor, but if any line actually got a chuckle out of you, I'd love to hear which one.**

**A friend of mine claims that this fic becomes hilarious if you read it in a "British nature documentary" narrator voice (think David Attenborough).  
**

**(PS- If any of you can suggest a better title than "Prove it," please do.)**


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